


Snape, the Bard

by Dark_Writer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Poetry, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Writer/pseuds/Dark_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape attempts poetry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snape, the Bard

Severus was bored. He was so bored, in fact, that he had taken to doodling on his parchment as old Binns droned on and on about some Vampire War or the Werewolf purging. He could not really remember where they were on the curriculum, attributing this to the acute annoyance that was the old ghost’s voice.

He was not really thinking when the first word appeared. In fact, he did not even pause to think about what he was doing. All he knew was that drawings had given way to words.

_Oh sweet, dear Lily,_

_How I wish Potter were dead_

_Because he calls me Old Snivelly_

_So that you would be mine instead._

Looking up to make sure that he was not caught – not that Binns would have noticed anything as proven by Potter’s rousing game of charades in the back of the class – he bent over the parchment and continued to write.  After all, he would finish this and stash it away with the others. No need for anyone to know.

_I wish the squid would take him_

_And rip his head off._

_You look so slim,_

_Don’t mind Karkaroff._

He grinned internally at the image of Potter getting his head ripped off. That would serve him right.

_My dear Lily,_

_If you were to die,_

_Then so would I,_

_Your ever faithful Snivelly._

He sighed as he eyed the atrocious nickname. He really did not want to use it but he had to maintain the rhyme scheme.

A kick to the back of the chair brought him away from his thoughts. Turning slightly, he cocked an eyebrow at the ginger next to him.

“Would you stop writing bad poetry about me already and pay attention Sev?” Lily hissed, never taking her eyes off of her own parchment where rows of neat letters transcribed the lecture perfectly (how he wished he could stroke the page right then). “I won’t help you study again if you don’t.”

“Of course,” he said with a bright, absolutely uncharacteristic and fake smile. Damn, he would have to hide his art better now.


End file.
